


Polaris

by Chouhan



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Also mentions Nohrian court politics and the like, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings of detachment from reality, Loose references to several support conversations, M/M, Minor DLC spoilers, Mutual Pining, Post-Awakening, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation, Some theories about the future-past, This is really sad but also really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 02:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10912650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chouhan/pseuds/Chouhan
Summary: In which Laslow cannot find his way home, and Xander serves to be his North Star.





	Polaris

**Author's Note:**

> This is perhaps the most emotionally charged piece I have written in months. Also very self-indulgent, so I might have overwritten a bit. Still, I hope you enjoy!

_On clear nights, if you are lost, all you have to do is look up and follow the brightest star on the horizon.  
_

_Given that you know your bearings, you’ll eventually find your way home._

 

Laslow had a habit of looking wistfully at the sky, as if seeking something from it. 

Xander noticed that this happened most especially during long travels. His retainer would drift off into a mysterious silence after a few bouts of conversation. He'd be content enough to slacken the grip he had on his horse’s reigns to gaze up at the vastness above them, simply letting the animal direct his path for him (which, in his opinion, was a rather thoughtless thing to do; the animal could go rogue all of a sudden and throw him off its back, leaving him in quite a compromising position in the dirt). 

Xander supposed, at first, that it was a foreigner’s curiosity. The Nohrian skies, much like the rest of Nohr itself, were always forbidding – a contrast of angry red streaks against cobalt and indigo clouds being the only telltale sign that it was, indeed, still daytime. It was difficult to distinguish night from day, as if the sun itself had abandoned the land; a high noon in this kingdom could easily be mistaken for dusk by an unseasoned traveler. But for all the years he had spent in Nohr since he first came, Laslow was neither a foreigner, nor was he an unseasoned traveler. The former crown prince, now king, did not understand his fascination. It was an unfriendly sky, of bad omens and of fear. The colors had always made Xander think of an ugly bruise.

During times like these, the look on Laslow’s face was almost indecipherable. His usual confident grin would be replaced with a listlessness that made Xander itch to know what exactly it was that he was thinking of. The heavens always set many a fool into idle daydream, but his retainer, always so quick to banter and jest, was never the type to be willingly speechless. His muteness baffled him. 

“A gold coin for your thoughts, Laslow?” He asked on one of these episodes, the latter being too distracted by his own musings to give a ready answer.

“Milord?”

“You look at the sky like you are lost, as if you do not know where you are.”

Xander meant it as a jest. He had expected a laugh and a quick-witted remark, but his retainer furrowed his brows at him instead, lips curving into a deep frown. He tightened his grip on his horse’s reigns and prompted the animal into alertness. He stared at the winding road ahead. 

“Laslow? It is quite unlike you to be so… quiet. Are you feeling all right? Do you need rest?”

He bowed his head at the concern, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s nothing, milord. Please don’t concern yourself with me. We have a long journey ahead, and I’d rather you save your energies for the negotiations you shall have to deal with later. I am sure you need more rest than I do.”

Xander was taken aback by his sudden… formality, but he wasn’t about to quip at it. Rather, he found himself unable to, with his retainer’s somber tone. He suddenly wished Peri was with them; she would know how to dispel this awkward fumble at a conversation with her usual brightness and eccentricity. However, one of them had to remain at the castle, to deal with things that would have been left behind while the new king of Nohr roamed the lands to mend the seams of a country that was nearly falling apart, after Garon’s rule. 

Ambassadors could have easily been sent out in his stead, but King Xander wanted to see, with his own eyes, what the true nature of things were – he couldn’t rely on the words of others alone for decisions that would affect the lives of many for years to come. He would rebuild the foundations of this kingdom with his own hands, even if it meant getting them a little dirty.

The knight let out a doleful sigh.

“I appreciate your concern for me, but I couldn’t help but worry… I shall keep to myself, then.”

Xander had always lived without light, yet seeing Laslow without his brilliant smile made the day seem to grow ever darker. And though he had never experienced basking in it, he now learned how it feels like to miss the warmth of the sun. Gloomy shadows still danced on his retainer’s face for the rest of the journey, and something in his eyes reminded him of a flickering candle. He wished to cup his hands over it, to keep it aflame.

Growing tense under his prying stare, Laslow set his mount off to a light trot, a few paces ahead of his liege, in order to hide his face. 

The king’s eyes never left his back until they arrived at their destination. 

“My lord… if you stare at me so much, I’ll melt,” He muttered as they stood at the castle’s entrance, waiting for the soldiers within to lower the drawbridge so that they may be welcomed in. The statement could have been playful if not for the way he whispered it, voice trembling with a palpable embarrassment and discomfort. Xander breathed sharply through his nose, realizing what he had been doing all this time, and tore his eyes away from Laslow’s slumped shoulders, chagrin dusting his cheeks with a light red. 

The drawbridge was lowered with a heavy groan and thunk, and they made their way into the castle.

Greetings were showered upon the young lord, some empty and some genuine congratulatory remarks given for his recent coronation as king. Young squires helped the both of them off their mounts, while the small band of soldiers that had accompanied them helped themselves and proceeded to lead their horses off to the stables. Jovial chatter about what was to be had for dinner and where to rest flitted among their company. Both lord and retainer could afford no such luxury yet. There were things needed to be done.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Your Highness. We are honored to have you here. Perhaps, after a few refreshments, you would be inclined to join us for the council meeting? I am afraid there are urgent matters to be discussed…” The castle’s lord wasted no time in ushering him away, and Laslow had to walk briskly in order to catch up. The noble led Xander into a grand corridor, and once they had reached the great doors of the council hall, the man shot the mercenary an incredulous look.

“I am afraid that this is a closed door meeting,” he cautioned, giving the young man a sweeping gaze from head to toe and back when he showed no sign of moving away from his liege. “No one aside from the council and the king shall be allowed in the hall.”

Laslow (having already shaken off his stupor once they had stepped in the halls so that he may properly play his role as the king's retainer) bristled at his words and put a hand to the hilt of his sword. The knight understood. These were times of newfound peace, but it was a fragile one; one that could easily shatter at the death of a new king. But that was not all there is to it. Laslow, he knew, did not threaten to draw his sword because of his loyalty to the king, but because of his loyalty to him, as his lord, as his friend – as _Xander._

“Were anything to happen to him–”

Although moved by the gesture, Xander raised a hand at him and waved him off.

“You may take your leave. As I have said, you are obviously tired. You need rest more than I.”

Laslow was appalled at his casual behavior.

“But, Milord! We do not know if–”

Xander steadied the sellsword by putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

“It is rude to be suspicious of one’s hosts, Laslow. Certainly no one here would dare to spill the blood of their guests under their own roof, unless they are a special breed of treacherous vermin.”

The noble beside the king nodded profusely in agreement, although he wrung the rings on his hands and noticeably went paler a few notches. The bobbing of his head sent the sparse white hairs on his pate bouncing in time with his movement, and it would have been comical, if Laslow hadn’t been so agitated.

“Besides… I need you to trust that I can protect myself, come the time of an assassination, or an ambush.”

Laslow opened his mouth in indignation, about to reason out again, but Xander shook him by the shoulder he was holding on to.

“Or does your uneasiness imply that you doubt my skill in swordsmanship?” He lowered his voice just enough for only his retainer to hear. “Surely you don’t think any of those old coots could best me in a tussle, much less a swordfight… do you?”

This earned him a small scoff and a grin, although the man still looked unconvinced.

“Of course not, milord. Still…”

“Rest. I’ll be with you momentarily. I might take a little long, but it would please me if you would join me for dinner.”

Laslow finally acquiesced, bowing to him gracefully, but not without a final threat. 

“…Don’t even think of putting poison in his tea.”

The nobleman’s face was a conflict between scandalized horror and uneasy laughter, and he led Xander inside, shaking his nearly bald head at the retainer’s retreating form. Laslow was led to his chambers by a maid, whom he wasted no time in getting to know. Xander couldn’t help but laugh. His retainer, despite how he is, had an unparalleled sense of duty that he found himself lauding, when the latter truly put his mind to it. Filled with quiet pride, he faced the council meeting with renewed mirth and vigor.

\--

Hearing Xander disappear behind the doors, Laslow halted his steps and gave one last glance over his shoulder. 

“Is something wrong?” Asked the maid, whom he was trying to woo until that moment. He shook his head and smiled at her wanly. 

“No, of course not. Please, lead the way.” 

He said nothing further after that. The maiden looked somewhat disappointed at the loss of his interest; she had been secretly enjoying his cheap come-ons, but if Laslow had noticed, he did not give any sign. The rest of the way was spent with the two of them marinating in uncomfortable silence. Upon reaching the door to his chambers – one long passage and a corner turn away from Xander’s own – he kicked off his boots, unstrapped his armor, and fell unceremoniously onto the bed. He breathed in the scent of fresh linen, of dust and sweat from a long day’s travel. He felt sticky from the heat. 

He got up, undressed, and drew himself a bath. 

Fatigue finally caught up to him once he soaked himself in the tub, all the way up to his shoulders. He sighed in content. The hot water seeped into sore thighs and stiff joints, his strained muscles turning pliant under rose-scented bubbles and water treated with healing herbs. As per usual, he would enjoy himself thoroughly and take his sweet time, since he knew it would be a while before Xander returned and called upon him so that they may sup together. Those long-winded meetings always went on for too many hours, and he reckoned his liege wouldn’t be back until the middle of the night. It was fine. He didn’t have much of an appetite anyway, and it would be good to wait and work up his hunger until it was time to dine. He didn’t want Xander to worry, or ask him again what was on his mind. 

He wouldn’t know how to answer.

He let himself sink into the water a bit further, hugging his knees to his chin. He splashed his face in an attempt to dispel the anxiety that had continued to flutter in his chest ever since the start of this mission. The war is over. Xander has been crowned King of Nohr. Selena and Odin were approaching him with their plans. 

The day of their departure drew near. 

This was probably the last journey the two of them would take together.

He tried not to think about it, not until now. Peri had actually been the one who was supposed to come with the king today, but Laslow pleaded, _insisted_ with her that it was _him_ who had to go. She didn’t understand his determination, but had let him do as he pleases, smiling her little smile, innocent and oblivious to his plight. 

A pang of regret gnawed at his gut. Maybe he should have been the one to stay behind. That way, with his liege gone, he would have had enough time to brace himself for the conversation he wished he would never have with him. Ylisse was his home, yet he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of leaving Xander behind. He imagined his grief, how he would put on a strong face as he said his goodbyes, implacable even by emotion. He knew it was a farce. He had seen how the former prince was when he lost Corrin. Would it be selfish of him to think that, perhaps, it would be the same if he left…?

He winced at the idea. He closed his eyes to bar it from entering his mind again. It was too much. _Too much._ He knew it all along. Befriending these people was a mistake. He should have kept his distance. He couldn’t. Xander was too kind, too _warm,_ and he was drawn to him from the very beginning. He was ever glad to serve, despite all of it being a pretense, despite not really being there for him and his kingdom. Nohr was inconsequential. It was the world, _this world,_ that they had to save, so that it may not befall the same fate as the past – no, the _future_ – that he had to experience. 

Odin had called the three of them the _“Heroes of Time”_ when they first arrived, and back then he found it amusing in a novel sort of way. It was true. They had traveled through time and space and now a entire _universe_ in order to save it from a grim fate. They did so, even though there was nothing in it for them in the end, save for the satisfaction that there will be no more death, no more bloodshed, no more war, no evil dragons or gods that wished to lay waste upon everything that was good. Even the past that they had saved wouldn’t be meant for them in the future; that was now an alternate reality, to be savored by the children who will grow and be raised in the now peaceful lands of Ylisse – _themselves_ , but not _quite_. His mother had not even married anyone, yet. 

He wonders how she is, whether she’s happy, whether she misses him. 

He wonders whether she has already taken a husband and had borne a child, Inigo, _himself_ , but not _quite_ – one that will enjoy a future wherein he will play with swords, and dance, and flirt, and he will not have to witness his mother dying at the hands of the Risen, right in front of his eyes, having been too weak to protect her.

And _him_? He would have to go away, conceal his identity, hide. Should they decide to return to their future, from whence they originally came, they wouldn’t be able to, for they have destroyed that reality already. And who would want to return to a blithering hellspace, anyhow? 

They were a walking paradox.

Olivia would always welcome him home, but he was hers and _not_ , and he couldn’t possibly remain while he watches himself grow up all over again, through the eyes of a stranger.  


This Olivia was not his mother. 

His own mother was dead. 

His eyes glistened with jealousy, with rage, with longing.

His thoughts drifted back to Xander. 

For a strong, clear moment, he thought he wanted to _stay_.

He got up from the bath, leaving lather and scented water splashing in his wake. He quickly rinsed and toweled himself down with a will, before storming off blindly to go through the motions of redressing. His hands shook as he fastened his buttons, his belt. The steam from the warm bath suffocated him on his way out.

There was a knock on the door.

Squaring his shoulders, he retrieved his sword, placed his hand on the door handle, and called out.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, milord. The maid from earlier. I’ve brought you your dinner.”

Laslow’s brows furrowed. He opened the door.

“I don’t remember asking for this.”

“King Xander asked me to bring this to you.”

He scowled.

“King Xander and I were supposed to have dinner together.”

The maid fidgeted nervously with the edge of the tray.

“Y-yes… I’ve heard… He also sends his apologies, and says that he does not want you to go hungry until midnight, on his account. He says for you to go on with your meal.”

“…very well. I’ll take it.”

He lifted the tray from her hands, and she looked relieved.

“Phew. For a moment there, I thought you wouldn’t. I don’t know what I would tell him if he asks why you refused. He was very adamant about it. He can be scary, sometimes,” she giggled, and he stared at her impassively, not exactly in the mood for small talk. She noticed, and reverted back to being perfunctory.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you. Good evening.”

He retreated back into his chambers and shut the door with his foot. He left the contents of the tray untouched on the small bedside table and went out to the balcony for some air. 

He felt like he was drowning. 

He looked up at the sky, searching it for familiar horizons that he knew he might never see again. As a traveler, he knew how to read the heavens, for guidance, for direction. The stars were his compass. But here, in this wretched place, not even the constellations provided him solace – he did not know their names, or stories. There were no familiar patterns. Each time he looked at the sky, he was reminded that he was so very far away from home.

_…Home?_

_Where is my home, anyway?_

He waited until his head was empty of all thoughts.

Lifting his hands under the bright moonlight, he began to dance.

 

\--

 

Xander emerged from the meeting hall with an air of exhaustion hanging from his shoulders, and he heaved a sigh. It was frivolous, to say in the least – in order to prosper Nohr, he had proposed that the nobles must surrender portions of their land to vassals, who will then lend them out to the common folk to work and till, to make it suitable for farming. This would provide a solution to the disparity in resources and wealth between the lower and higher class, and would bear no heavy consequence to the fortunes of those who were already rich in the first place, if put blatantly. They would still benefit from the capital that would be earned. 

However, new policies are always met with resistance, and those whose greed is greater than their fattening bellies would of course refuse to let go of what they think is rightfully theirs. He had held himself back several times from raising his voice as the men around the table focused more on self-preservation rather than the good of the entire kingdom. _Nohr is starving, and yet all you can think of is your own hunger!_

The meeting ended on the sour note of a debate, and the king had left with little to no sense of accomplishment. All they had done was go back and forth in endless circles. He felt like he had only wasted his time. And to think they still had to stay here for another week…

He passed his hand over his face, fighting back a shudder. It was a king’s duty to reconcile his people, no matter how he felt about them. In order to accomplish that, he had to set an example. The reformed Nohr would be one of peace and equality, not of conquest, and certainly not of corruption. For now, it sounds like an idealistic dream, but he would get these policies put into action if it would be better for the kingdom, pride of the nobles be damned. Leo would help him. Camilla and Elise would help him. They will make the kingdom strong again.

The maid who had accompanied Laslow before was the one who led him back to his chambers as well. He might as well pay him a visit before he retired for the day.

“Excuse me, but would you be so kind as to show me where my retainer is staying? I would like to bid him good night, before anything else.”

She seemed surprised by this, gawking at him as if he had grown a second head. Was it really that strange of a thing to do?

“E-er, yes, milord! It is at the end of the hall, around the corner,” She fixed him with a long gaze, and then she smiled. 

“Y-you really care for him a lot, huh. You’re a kind master. Are you like this with all your servants, too?”

Xander blinked. She seemed intimidated by him, but she was still brave enough to be precocious. He smiled at her boldness. It reminded him of someone he knows.

“Of course. I treat them as my comrades, with all the respect they deserve,” he sighed, and offered her a smile. “Though if I may say, I care for this one in particular. He is both my friend, and my retainer. His loyalty gives me strength.”

The maid giggled.

“How romantic.” 

_“Pardon?”_

“Er!” She quickly righted herself, brushing off imaginary stains from her apron. “E-excuse me, milord, I spoke out of line – I-I _really_ must go!”

And with that, she ran off, leaving him baffled in front of Laslow’s door.

It was slightly ajar, and he hadn’t needed to turn the handle, much less knock, to enter. For a moment, he feared for the worst, and he pushed the door open without a sound, hand at the sword on his hip, eyes scanning the dark. The sound of his boots were muted by the plush carpet beneath him. He let his eyes adjust.

Laslow was nowhere to be found. 

The tray of food that he had asked to be sent up to him was left untouched on the bedside table. His knapsack and other effects were there, but the bed remained pristine and untouched, save for a bit of wrinkling. He scanned the room for a presence – _an intruder, an assassin, a thief_ – or perhaps Laslow had simply wandered out, and had forgotten to lock his door? He was carefree, but not _that_ careless. What was there to seek out in the middle of the night, anyhow?

And then, he saw him, out on the balcony, silhouetted behind the curtains of the tall windows. His form was delicately illuminated by silvery moonlight. He had meant to call out to him, if not for the sudden flicker of his wrist, for the way his body rose and curved and bent, for the way he lifted himself off the ground with graceful leaps and quick turns that knocked Xander’s breath away with the sheer beauty of it. Laslow’s face had a look that he had never seen before. His eyes burned with something vibrant under the soft illumination of the night sky, fully immersed on his task, until he craned his head a particular way, and saw him there, watching from the shadows.

Laslow lost his footing and fell on his rump, then and there, with a shout.

“Ugh… That’s sore…”

“Are you all right?!” Xander rushed to him in a frenzy, helping the young man up. Laslow took up his offer and dusted himself off, rubbing at his back a little.

“Geez, Lord Xander, I could use a bit of a warning, here. Have you been watching me all this time?”

“Ah, no, I… I hadn’t meant to spy.” 

The king swallowed, finding his throat a bit dry. 

“You dance beautifully.”

Laslow flushed from his ears to his neck.

“Argh, don’t look at me like that…!” He elbowed Xander halfheartedly on the rib. The former prince laughed.

“I’m sorry. I am just glad to see you feeling better. You were in such damp spirits today. I didn’t know what to do.”

The light in his eyes flickered again. The flames were growing weaker.

“I’m sorry… Though I think I’ve told you not to worry about it.”

Xander fixed him with a firm stare. 

“There is no way I couldn’t have worried about it. Why didn’t you touch your food?”

Laslow looked away. _I wasn’t hungry._ “I was waiting for you.”

Xander’s gaze softened on him, then, and he took the dancer’s hand in his, ushering him back into his chambers.

“Then you must be starving. I’ll have a maid bring up a hot meal for us both. Let’s eat together.”

The king’s smile was met with an uncertain glance. Laslow nodded, but made no move. Xander's smile fell.

“...Truly, now. Do you expect me to believe that nothing is wrong? Please tell me what I can do for you. It pains me to see you so distraught.”

His retainer looked up at him, beseeching.

“Xander… I…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“…I’m lost.”

The taller man blinked away his confusion.

“You’re right here.”

“I’m lost, and I can’t seem to find my way home.”

Xander’s eyes searched his, for an answer that he himself doesn’t seem to know.

“You’re speaking in riddles. If this is about your departure…”

They have talked about this before. It had always been a sore subject between them, so they had tried not to dwell on it much, but he knew, eventually, that he would have to bear with it, and listen until the end. He had only hoped that it would come later…

“I have nowhere to go.”

“But you–... Odin, and Selena–... ”

“No.” He shook his head, on the verge of tears. “I don’t even know what kind of life will be waiting for me when I return. We all spoke of home so fondly, we all waited so dearly for this moment, and yet, I…”

He trailed off, and spoke again after a long moment of contemplation. Xander remained quiet, patient for him to continue.

“I sometimes wonder if this is all just a long dream, and that I would wake up from it soon. That the reason why the constellations here are different is because they’re just fabrications, something my mind had made up, and I don’t truly belong here – or anywhere, for that matter. Not Ylisse, not Nohr… I am divided into lives. I find myself wondering which is real, and which is not. Sometimes, I even forget my own name... Isn’t it strange?”

As much as he tried, it was all too sudden, too much to wrap his head around at the moment. For all that he’s witnessed from the recently ended war, he was far more inclined to believe things that he would have scoffed at, had he been told about it before any of this had happened. He didn't know his story. He didn't know what to believe. But here he was, ready to break under a pressure he could only imagine how immense, and he felt powerless in front of it all. He placed a hand on Laslow’s cheek, wiping the corner of his eye with the pad of his thumb. He sighed.

“For all the years that you have been here, I’ve known you as you are, and I have not questioned it even once. All that mattered to me is that you are who you’ve said you are, and that you are here with me,” It was then that Laslow began to sob, and he pulled him into his arms, against his chest. He rested his chin on his head. He soothed his trembling shoulders with gentle strokes.

“I have told you before, and I’ll say it again – if you wish to leave, I will not stop you. All that matters to me is that you continue to draw breath, and that you are well. I do not want to see you in pain, however,” he drew away from him, then, in order to meet his eyes, “And if you find yourself without a home, you can be sure that you will always have a place to return to... Here, with me, in Nohr.”

He could only offer him this little comfort, at the moment. He understood nothing of how deep Laslow’s – _was that even his name?_ – troubles really are, or of how to relieve him of his pains. _But all in due time,_ he tells himself. _All in time._

Laslow wiped his eyes, and smiled, however shakily.

“Then, is it all right if I stay?”

Xander bit back his sentiments.

_If I could, I would beg you not to go._

“If it is your will to.”

For the first time that day, Laslow laughed. 

“Then I will be in your care for a little while longer.”

The king smiled at him tenderly.

“I would have it no other way.”

Laslow fell back into his embrace.

He felt safe.

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to explore their characters more, and I hope I got it right somehow! I wanted to bring out sides of them that might have been glossed over a little in the game. I also mixed in a little bit of my own "what ifs," and so this entire fic might not be very compliant to the plot of both Revelations and Awakening, respectively. Oh, well! Never hurts to experiment a bit! I broke my own heart writing this, so don't worry! If you're crying, you're not alone. Me, too.  
> (I'll proofread this at a later date!)
> 
> EDIT: This fic drew some inspiration from [this lovely song right here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvGOg6EKQoo&feature=youtu.be)! I hope it adds a bit more context to the story!


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